Adler & Holmes
by Meilodiii
Summary: AU where Sherlock Holmes and Irene Adler are notorious criminals, mysterious, sexy, and very slippery. Two members of Scotland Yard, John Watson and Greg Lestrade, are assigned to catch the duo at all costs.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

John woke up with the sun in his eyes, he squinted, and groaned, he really didn't want to go to work.

"What's the matter, honey?"

John looked over at the brunette next to him, Sarah was soft with sleep, a hazy smile lingering on her face, she brought a hand up to flip her hair back.

"Nothing, just really don't want to go to work." John said, and rubbed his hands over his face, trying to quench his tiredness.

"Stay in for a while, no one is going to care if you're late." Sarah said, and smiled as she slipped her nightgown off of one shoulder, revealing bare, smooth flesh. She smiled, "Can I tempt you to stay?"

"Sorry, but I've got to get to work." John said, he wasn't even looking at Sarah's shoulder, he got up and stretched, "But you can sleep in if you want."

Sarah looked slightly dejected, but snuggled into her pillow, falling asleep again with a lingering sadness.

The Scotland Yard was bustling with activity, everywhere but John and Greg's office. As usual, their office was deadly quiet, the board filling up with more and more clues, though none of them bore any leads and in fact only a few of them seems to be connected at all. The filing cabinet is also filled to the brim, but only a few made sense, and none of them had enough weight to grant anything more than a search warrant.

"Morning Greg." John said as he took a sip of his coffee, it was shitty cafeteria coffee, burning his tongue and tasting like water in a stylophone cup.

"How are you drinking that crap?"

"At least it's coffee."

Greg shrugged, and took a sip of his own coffee, but from a travel mug and brought to the office from the expensive machine that his wife had bought without telling him.

"Anything new?" John asked, although he knew the answer already, Adler and Holmes were impossible to catch, they know how to cover their trails, but they leave just enough clues to drive the police, namely John and Greg, mad.

"Do you think we would be able to catch them before we retire?"

"I doubt it."

Outside of Scotland yard, in a black jaguar, sat a man and a woman. Both of them had dark hair, and some would even say they looked alike, but they are not related. The woman had her hair pinned up in a elegant knot on top of her head, she was wearing blood red lipstick and a form fitting black dress, with a permanent mysterious smile. The man had a head full of curls, he had piercing eyes that no one could quite tell the color of, and he wore a tailored suit, his skin was extremely pale. Those two are dangerous, slippery, and notorious criminals, or more specifically, Sherlock Holmes and Irene Adler.

"What are we doing here again?" Sherlock drawled, his hands in a tented position just below his chin.

"We're meeting a girl who thought it would be safer if we met outside Scotland Yard." Irene said, looking at her phone, she rolled her eyes, "What a foolish girl."

"Clearly that's exactly why she talked to us." Sherlock said, then looked at his watch, "when is she coming and why do I have to be here?"

"Shut it, stop complaining."

Sherlock grumbled incomprehensibly, and slouched in his seat like a child.

"Sit up." Irene said sharply, "You're going to wrinkle your suit."

"Yes, mother."

"I did not carry you for nine months to get that tone." Irene said sternly, then they both smiled.

"Hey, is that the girl?" Sherlock pointed at a lone figure standing in front of Scotland Yard, clearly waiting for someone, the streak of blue in her blond hair and the piercing on her nose screamed teenage rebellion, she looked nervous, her clothes tell that she was trying to show that she was an adult, but Sherlock could tell that she felt guilty about being there.

"Yes it is."

"Well then, go work your magic."

"Oh I will."

John looked up as the young intern knocked on the glass door of their office, he motioned for him to come in, and the lad laid a file on his desk.

"What's that?"

"Not sure, sir." He said, he seemed nervous to be talking to the head of a division, even though that division consisted of John, Greg, and a couple of people the yard gave them when they complained about the lack of manpower, "Mr. Usher just told me to give it to you. It seems to be classified, though."

"Thanks, lad." John said, and as an afterthought asked about his age, he was 21.

"I swear those guys get younger every year." John said as Greg walked into the office, bumping into the intern, who blushed and became extremely flustered.

"I think we're just getting old."

"Don't remind me." John said, grimacing as he took a sip of the cold coffee, "This is actually disgusting."

"What's in that file?"

John opened it, it contained several typed pieces of paper of how a drug ring that was recently busted had been revealed to have a contact list with the names "The Lipstick and the Cheekbones", the phone number was London's.

"Hey Greg," John said, still staring distractedly at the piece of paper in his lap.

"Yeah?"

"I believe we've just got our first lead in five months."

Downstairs, Irene, in 10 cm high heels, approached the teenager.

"So, I've heard that you wanted to make some money."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Yes, I think that one would work the best." Irene said, glancing up from her phone to look at the tweed jacket Sherlock was holding up.

"That's what I said." Sherlock looked slightly put out, and was pouting.

"Well, it didn't work last time." Irene said in a sing-song voice, her eyes still not leaving the phone.

"Yeah, like it's my fault you didn't realise she prefers the other sex."

"I believe the deducing is your job, Mr. Holmes."

"I believe you're quite capable of that as well, Miss Adler." Sherlock said back, "Especially about…emotions…" He shuddered.

"Oh come on, stop over-reacting." Irene said, locking her phone and looking up at him, 'It's not as disgusting as you think it is, if you only tried it…"

"I'll let my assumptions be wrong, then."

Greg, John, and the whole office was staring at the phone number on the photocopied paper, it seems a little weird that their whole career rests on this piece of paper.

"So, what are we going to do?" Greg said, "We can't just call them."

"No…" John said, still staring at the phone number, "But if we don't call them, what are we going to do?"

"Well, fist of all, we have to ask the lads to run this number in the system, see who it belongs to."

"Then?"

"Beats me."

John leaned back in his chair, forcing the people crowded around his desk to shuffle back. This is it. He thought to himself. This is our first real clue.

Sherlock sat down on a bench in the park, wearing a tweed suit and heavy, wire framed glasses. His hair was matted with gel, and there's a coffee stain on his jacket that wasn't an accident. In his hands he held a dejected looking bouquet, slightly wilted and sad, it had taken him some time to convince the owner of the stall that he actually wanted those flowers.

"Hey, Mr. Holmes, why the long face?"

Sherlock looked up to see the sympathetic face of the one and only Lana Cox, who worked at the library, and more importantly, was Professor Smith's teaching assistant. The only reason they were involving Lana was because Professor Smith is very devoted to his wife, and even Irene could not derail him, so now they have to heartlessly use this young lady.

"Oh nothing, Lana." Sherlock pretended to look sadder, and held up the bouquet in lieu of an explanation, "She stood me up."

"Oh, Mr. Holmes."

"Sherlock, please."

"Oh, Sherlock." She said, and sat down next to him. Sherlock had been changing into dumb outfits and buying coffee at the same place Lana got hers for the past month, they struck up conversation, and cultivated a platonic relationship, well, at least platonic for now.

"It doesn't matter." Sherlock mumbled, still looking down, "Maybe she forgot, I'll call and apologise."

"What on earth are you apologising for?" Lana asked, incredulous.

"Well, I must have bored her to death and…" Sherlock really wanted to roll his eyes at how the girl was buying everything he offered, "Sorry to bore you with that, can I buy you some coffee? I'll make it up to you."

"There's nothing to make up for, I really enjoy our talks." Lana said, Sherlock could see that she was thrilled to be asked out. "But since there's free coffee, there's no way I could say no."

Sherlock smiled meekly at her, but inside he was grinning triumphantly. He lead her inside the coffee house, and ordered at the counter, then excusing himself to use the bathroom. He knew that the chances of Lana being wary of him drugging her drink were minimal, but he didn't want to take any unnecessary risks, and to be honest, that trick is really rather crude. He took out something in a ziplock bag from his pocket, and put it in his mouth.

"Hey, sorry if I was long."

"You weren't." Lana said, smiling.

Sherlock settled in, and then began taking off the tweed jacket, revealing a pristine white shirt, he rolled up the cuffs. Then, he tousled his hair so that it returned to its usual state, and he took off his glasses. Lana noticed how his entire demeanour changed, it was as if he was a completely different person, the transformation would've really fascinated her if it wasn't for that fact that she was slightly alarmed.

"Now, Lana, where were we?" Sherlock said, and then leaned over the coffee table, engaging Lana in a passionate kiss, which while was enjoyable to Lana, also resulted in the packet going inside Lana's mouth, where the plastic bursted with a firm push by Sherlock's tongue. When they parted, Lana looked slightly dazed.

"I hope I wasn't too forward, Lana."

"You…weren't?" The poor girl looked incredibly confused, but she smiled at him as if to reassure him.

"Then I believe I will have to invite you back to my place."

Sherlock led the, now half conscious and slightly delirious, Lana into his car, and then drove back to his "place".

The same intern from before came into their office again, "I've got the results!" He waved a piece of paper at them.

Greg stuffed his donuts in, and gestured for the intern to hand the paper to him.

"What is it?" John asked, turning his swivel chair to face Greg, he was also chewing on a donut, which definitely made his cycle to work useless. "Who does it belong to?"

"Doesn't say." Greg said, "It's a disposable phone, so we won't be able to track it either."

"Oh." John looked down, so much for the first real clue, "So all we can do it to call it?"

"Yes."

"Great." John said drily. They only have once chance, and the fact that it's a disposable phone made the possibility that it was already disposed higher.

Sherlock dropped off Lana with Irene, then went back to his experiments.

"What's the plan from here?" Irene asked, perched on a stool facing Sherlock.

"We wait."

The doorbell rang.

They both looked up, their eyes wide and surprised, no one, not even their most valuable clients, knew where this house was. Looking at each other, they both got up and walked to the door silently, and Irene looked into the peephole, it was a meek young women, holding a tray of cookies and looking worriedly at the door. Irene opened it, the woman's face lit up.

"Hi! I just moved in next door!" She said, flustered but cheerful, "I made some cookies, and I hope we will be great neighbours."

Sherlock looked the woman up and down, scanning everything from her hair to her shoes, then he inclined his head in a greeting, and walked away. She blushed.

"Oh, don't mind him." Irene said, and smiled, "He just doesn't like strangers."

"Oh no, it's fine…" The woman said, her eyes trying to catch a glimpse of the dark figure that is long gone.

"Thank you for the cookies, I'm Irene Adler, and that's Sherlock Holmes." Irene said, extending her hand.

"Molly Hooper, and it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Oh no, believe me, the pleasure's all mine."


End file.
